


four thousand miles (the end of the line)

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Indulgent, as they say the fanfics write themselves, but it just turned into, i tried to write, mmm i love me some fluff no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's five in the morning when he receives the call."Hello?" George asks blearily.The noise from the phone sounds suspiciously like crying.-Inspired by the stream moment where George said that Dream's calls bypass do-not-disturb in case he needs him in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 265
Collections: Anonymous





	four thousand miles (the end of the line)

**Author's Note:**

> a satisfying 1000 words of very little substance that was written in like an hour
> 
> if george or dream ever says that they're uncomfortable with shipping or the like this fic will be deleted :) respect cc's boundaries please, this is all for fun

It's five in the morning when he receives the call. 

He's woken up by the default iPhone ringtone that he has yet to change. At first he's confused by the blaring noise before realizing that only one person would be calling him this late. With the early morning light shining through his curtains, he fumbles around on his side table until he finally finds his phone. 

"Hello?" George says blearily after answering. 

The noise on the end of the phone sounds suspiciously like crying. 

"Hey, hey, Dream, are you okay?" George asks. There's no response for a while. His concern grows with every passing second - Dream has never called him up out of the blue like this before. 

Finally, Dream responds, "... just stay on the line, please?"

George is taken aback a little by how small he sounds.

Nevertheless, he smiles a little at his friend. "Sure," he says, and rearranges himself so he's sitting up in his bed. He's prepared to stay on the phone for as long as Dream needs. 

After a while, the hiccups and sniffles calm down and give way to long, steadying breaths, until finally, all is still. The silence stretches across the miles of ocean that separate them. 

Softly, George finally asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"

The quiet draws on, and George is beginning to regret questioning anything until he hears a faint "no thank you" from the phone speaker. 

"Alright," George responds.

He watches his clock as the time ticks by, waiting in silence. Seconds pass, then minutes, until George decides to speak up again.

"Dream, are you okay?"

Silence, until: "Not really."

George sighs. It was a stupid question. Obviously Dream wasn't _okay,_ if he had woken George up at five in the morning for comfort. He was a little unsure of what to do, if he was really the best person to contact for this. Timidly, he voices this concern, but Dream interrupts him.

"Stop it, George. You're the one that I want." That sounds more like the Dream that George is familiar with. He chuckles lightly, face heating up at the statement.

"Alright, Dream. Whatever you say," he says noncommittally. 

"I love you, George, you know that, right?" Dream says quietly after a moment. George smiles. 

"Yeah, I know."

The resulting silence drags on long enough that George is convinced Dream has fallen asleep. 

"Goodnight, Dream," he says softly. 

The words _I love you, I love you, I love you_ circle his mind as he drifts off, falling asleep in the comfort of his best friend's presence on the end of the line.

-

He wakes up to tangled bedsheets and a phone that refuses to turn on. It must have died during the call with Dream last night. He smiles a little bit at that, the fact that Dream had left the call going long enough that his phone's power ran out. 

A shower and a bowl of cereal later, he's greeted by a single text on his home screen. It simply reads _"thank you,"_ from Dream.

He responds with an equally simple _"np :]"_ , and that's the end of that. 

-

They don't speak about the incident until another date in the future, when George is woken up by the blaring iPhone ringtone once again. 

"Hello?" he says, half asleep. Checking the clock on his bedside table, it's 4:34 AM. He does the math - that's half past eleven for Dream. 

"Hi, George," a familiar voice answers from the end of the line. He's not crying, George is relieved to find out, but he sounds exhausted. 

George's tone softens. "What's up, Dream? Are you okay?"

"I'm already better now that I'm with you," comes the reply. George exhales. Ever the flirt, Dream was, even when he seemed about to pass out. He smiles slightly nonetheless.

"Seriously, though, you sound exhausted," George says carefully. "What's going on?"

"Oh, you know. Overworking myself, as usual," Dream says drily. 

George sighs, but before he can say anything, Dream cuts him off. "I know, you're gonna scold me, but please don't right now because I'm very stressed out and I don't know if I can handle any more of it, especially if it's from you, George," he says in one breath. 

George is silent for a moment. "Alright," he finally answers. "How can I help?"

"Maybe, can we just talk?" Dream asks timidly, tone changing abruptly. 

George smiles a little. He's really gotten soft.

-

He can't remember falling asleep last night. The last thing he recalls is hushed laughter from Dream as he struggles to contain himself at one of his own jokes. His _own joke,_ for heaven's sake. 

Stupid, George remembers thinking. _He's such an idiot._ But he was laughing too, so he doesn't really have any room to judge. 

He had remembered to plug his phone in during the call last night and laughs to himself when he sees that it's still connected. Faint snoring can be heard from the other end of the line; Dream is sleeping in. 

_Good,_ George thinks. He deserves it. 

He carries his phone with him and places it on the counter while he makes breakfast, leaving his microphone muted so as to not wake up his friend. 

When noise finally filters through the tinny phone speaker, it's about an hour after he's woken up.

"George? Are you there?" a groggy voice says. 

"Right here, Dream," George says, grinning, and he's only a little shocked by how fond he sounds.

Dream hums. "Good morning," he says, and George can hear the sweet smile on his face and he knows he's fallen too hard too fast. 

"Good morning, _Dreamie_ ," he teases in response. "Sleep well?"

He can hear Dream's exhale of laughter. "Fantastic," comes the reply.

George smiles again. With another remark, the conversation shifts to something more ordinary, but he finds that he doesn't mind. He'll treasure these moments, these soft, early mornings and quiet late nights, but he treasures everything else about Dream, too.

**Author's Note:**

> posting as anon because my irls have my account and theyre gonna ridicule me (probably) so i dont want it linked directly to my profile. [here's my ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hybridsunshine) if you want to read more :0 
> 
> thank you have a nice day :]


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